


Valentine Red is Blood Red

by YZYdragon2222



Series: Let's Celebrate Our Descent into Heaven [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Attempted Murder, Attempted Sexual Assault, Bar fights, Coon & Friends, F/M, Inspired by Joker, Jealousy, Love, M/M, Minions, Mystery, Pining, Protests, Riots, Serpentess, The Coon - Freeform, Valentine's Day, general disarray - Freeform, human kite - Freeform, mysterion - Freeform, professor chaos - Freeform, street brawls, toolshed - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:26:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23308315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YZYdragon2222/pseuds/YZYdragon2222
Summary: Professor Chaos is on hiatus, and it's ironic how he can sometimes cause the most damage when he's actually absent.  Without their favorite supervillain around to ruin their lives, the unhappy souls of South Park grow restless. Agitated. Aggressive.Violent. And what's worse, people are losing their faith in their superheroes.  They're rooting for thebad guys.Absence, apparently, makes the heart growangrier.Well, that's a sentiment Cartman can get on board with.  But for once, he doesn't want to fuel the flames of his pointless anger towards the slippery supervillain.  All he wants—needs—is a distraction.Too bad that distraction comes in the form of three women, and if there's anything Cartman can't get along with, it's females and their bloody vaginas.  One of them wants him dead, and the other one is a jealous mistress who wants him dead.  And the third one is none other than his ex-girlfriend, Heidi Turner.  Who may or may not want him dead.And because Fate is the bitchiest bitch who over bitched, all three women lead Cartman on a bloody trail back to Professor Chaos anyway.
Relationships: Clyde Donovan/Bebe Stevens, Eric Cartman & Kenny McCormick, Eric Cartman/Heidi Turner, Eric Cartman/Leopold "Butters" Stotch, Kyle Broflovski & Eric Cartman, Kyle Broflovski & Stan Marsh, Leopold "Butters" Stotch/Charlotte, Leopold "Butters" Stotch/Original Female Character(s), Liane Cartman/Roger Donovan, Stan Marsh/Wendy Testaburger
Series: Let's Celebrate Our Descent into Heaven [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1634644
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pepsicola](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepsicola/gifts).



> Okay. Okay. *Deep breath.* SO...This was supposed to be the Valentine's Day sequel to Chaos Doesn't Take a Holiday, but I don't need you to tell me that it's ALMOST FUCKING APRIL. I _do_ understand the concept of time, I just choose not to abide by its laws.
> 
> ...And that's clearly bullshit. I'm just a shitty procrastinator, so here we are.
> 
> I was originally gonna make this a ginormous one-shot like it's predecessor, but since I'm not actually fucking done writing this damn thing I'm gonna post it in chapters so that y'all can get started on it sometime before 2021. It'll be easier to navigate in chapters, anyway. And, hopefully, I can begin to provide some cheer in your lives during this difficult time. Everyone—wherever you are—PLEASE stay safe and vigilant while we battle the invisible enemy that is coronavirus. I know that to you, I'm just that weirdo procrastinator who likes fucking around on AO3, but I still consider y'all my little fanfic family and anyone would like someone to talk to during this debilitating era, whether because of personal struggle or sheer fucking boredom, please know that I am here to listen!
> 
> And that, of course, couldn't apply more to my dear friend pepsicola, to whom this is again dedicated. I know you've posted some new material since we last spoke but I haven't gotten around to reading it yet. It's on my to-do list, right after the one trillion essays I have to write for school!!!!! *shoots self in head*
> 
> By the way, please don't be off-put by the fact that this story takes place 'round Valentine's Day. There's a lot of important plot in this installation that's going to come to play later on the series. Yes, the fic happens in February, but it's just a plot device. If you're looking for that lovely lovey-dovey saccharine fluff we usually associate with Valentine's Day, you're looking in the wrong place.

“All right everyone, listen up—members of the Student Council may begin passing out Valentine’s Day candy grams to their recipients,” announces Principal Charles (better known as PC Principal, or simply Lord Butthurt) to the junior class of South Park High School. “Remember, these candy grams are a means of expressing affections _only_ ; I don’t want to hear about anyone being pressured into a romantic and/or sexual situation through candy grams, are we fucking clear? And anyone who gets a Valentine that says ‘Be Mine’ will report to me immediately, because humans are autonomous beings that cannot and _will_ not be owned by other autonomous beings under my fucking watch.”

All around the cafeteria, members of the student council (led by Wendy Testaburger) rise from their seats to commence candy gram distribution duty. Tremors of excitement and apprehension ripple throughout the room: excitement from the popular kids, who will most assuredly receive enough candy from their many admirers to last till Halloween, and apprehension from the less popular, who will receive pity grams, joke grams, or worse, nothing at all—exacerbating their laughable status as unwanted losers to their tormentors. 

Eric Cartman, junior at South Park High, is neither excited nor apprehensive. Not that he’s not _popular_ —even without knowing about his superpowers, his classmates would have to be _blind_ not to see his super _awesomeness—_ but Eric’s not particularly desirous of receiving Valentine’s grams. After all, Valentine’s Day is a holiday for fags, second only to Christmas in terms of how much it sucks. 

“Can’t be owned by other autonomous beings, huh?” Kenny says from Eric’s left, breaking the brunet’s train of thought. “I dunno, man, autonomy sounds like a buttload of responsibility. Being owned, on the other hand, sounds like it could be fun. I think I’d be good at it. I’d let my Master do whatever he wanted to me. Whaddya think, Cartman?” Kenny smirks his signature smirk, the one full of obnoxiousness and innuendo. “Wanna give me a forbidden ‘Be Mine’ gram and be my Daddy?”

“Suck my balls, Kenny,” Eric replies. “And that’s not me telling you to fuck off, that’s literally my first order of business to you.”

Kenny makes a face, though his mouth wobbles in its desire to laugh. “Oh _Daddy_ , you sure are a strange one. Of all the things you could—“

“Ay, less talking, more sucking, poor boy!” Eric interrupts smugly. “I work my ass off to put food in your mouth, _slave_ , so your mouth better suck those balls like your life fucking depends on it.”

Kenny bristles, as he’s wont to do anytime his pitiful socioeconomic status is brought up. “Oh yeah? If you really do work your ass off as you say, then why the fuck is your ass so fucking big, fat boy?”

“Ay, I’m not fat, I’m big-boned!”

“You gotta admit you walked straight into that one, fatass,” Kyle snorts from across the table.

On Kyle’s right, Stan looks up glumly and says, “Kenny, if I hear you calling Cartman ‘Daddy’ one more time, I will seriously fucking kill myself.”

“Yeah, yeah, just about anything makes you wanna kill yourself these days,” Kyle mutters darkly. Kyle’s been unusually snappy at Stan all Valentine’s week, for which Wendy has been unusually possessive of the youngest Marsh. Kyle’s snappishness has turned Stan into an even more sad and depressed pile of goo, which in turn makes Wendy an even madder, clingier harpy—thus perpetuating the never ending cycle of the Testaburger-Marsh-Broflovski love triangle of doom. 

Kenny, the poor bleeding heart, actually looks worried for Stan and Kyle’s sake, but the dirty blond’s concern is quickly forgotten when Annie comes by and deposits candy grams from no less than two dozen admirers into his lap. Actually, Eric thinks that those ‘admirers’ are more in love with Kenny’s slutty, undiscriminating dick than they are with Kenny-the-poor-asshole himself—not that Kenny-the-poor-asshole seems to care all that much about that. Each Valentine gram comes with a piece of candy inside, and Kenny’s bounty is a positive _feast_ in comparison with his usual pop-tart lunches. 

Stan receives exactly one candy gram from Wendy (because anyone else who _dared_ send him one would undoubtedly suffer the student council president’s wrath). Kyle receives a modest handful of grams, including one from Lisa Berger, who seems to have developed a fetishisitic obsession with Kyle’s luscious Jewfro, and another from a secret admirer (Stan blushes a little too hard when Kyle opens the latter one). 

Then, Eric feels a light tap on his shoulder. He whirls around in his seat to find a chick with blond pigtails holding a candy gram in her hand. She’s tiny and short—only about an inch taller than a fully-seated Eric at her full height. 

“Ooh, shomeone’sh go’ a cruuuuush on youuuuu,” Kenny titters around a mouthful of chocolate, earning a hate-filled glare from Eric. The pigtailed girl fidgets nervously, but otherwise ignores Kenny. She bows in an exaggerated show of respect. 

“Are you Mr. Eric Cartman?” she asks formally. 

“Do you live under a rock or something?” Eric asks in return. How can anyone around here _not_ know who he is? When she responds with naught but a blank expression, Eric pinches the bridge of his nose and snaps, “Yeah, that’s me, what do you want?”

“I was asked to deliver this to you,” she says, handing him a candy gram. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sir.”

Eric takes the gram and she beats a hasty retreat, evidently eager to be out of his presence.

“Huh,” Stan says. “Who was she? I don’t remember her being part of the student council.”

“Looks like a freshman,” Kyle adds. “The hell is she doing at our lunch?”

Eric shrugs, less curious about the girl than he is about his Valentine gram. It’s heavy. He opens the envelope and not one, not two, but _six_ heart-shaped chocolates fall out of it.

“Hey, what the hell?” Kenny exclaims jealously. “I thought there was only one candy allowed per gram! If every person gave me six, then I’d have—” Kenny does some quick math in his head in a sudden fit of intellectual brilliance—”one-hundred-forty-four of these bad boys!”

“Oh come on, Kenny, this is Cartman we’re talking about,” Kyle says dismissively. “He probably sent _himself_ the candy gram and bribed someone to put extra chocolate in there.”

“Ay, shut your mouth, you fucking Jew!” Cartman says, popping two chocolates into his mouth at once and unwrapping a third. “If I wanted chocolate I’d just _buy_ some from the fucking store, y’know, ‘cause I’m not poor like Kenny. You’re just jealous that someone loves me more than you!”

“Who’s it from?” Stan asks, snatching the pink envelope away from Eric and opening it. 

“It doesn’t say,” Kyle observes. “Another anonymous sender? Fuck, what _is_ with these cowards?”

“Well, is there a message?” Kenny asks curiously.   
  


Stan squints at the paper. “Yeah, it says—Jesus _fuck_ this person has messy handwriting—’ _Till death do us part_ ’.”

“Death _would_ be imminent for whoever wants to spend their life with Cartman,” Kyle snorts. “They’d get crushed to death underneath all of his fat.”

“ _Big bones_!” Eric protests around his fourth chocolate. 

“That’s a weird thing to write in a Valentine gram,” Kenny points out. “Sounds more like a wedding vow, honestly.”

“It’s fucking gay,” Stan proclaims.

“Nah, it ain’t,” says Professor Chaos. “Only a girl would do this.”

_Wait, wait, wait…_

_What the fuck, what the FUCK?_

“Shut up, Butters,” says Stan.

“Shut up, Butters,” says Kyle.

Eric swivels to his right and finds fucking Chaos, _the_ Professor Chaos, in full armor and teal-accented regalia, sitting in the previously unoccupied spot on his right-hand side. The villain ignores Stan and Kyle, instead smiling his heart-melting smile at Eric like they’re the last two people on Earth. Eric feels his heart plummeting to his stomach. 

He tries to open his mouth to speak, shout, throw a hissy fit, whatever—but he finds his jaw stuck in place as an incredible pain burns from his very core, all the way up to his throat and down to the tips of his extremities. It’s like a fountain of molten tar has erupted in his stomach, filling him with sluggish agony.

“Why’re you so sure it was a girl?” Kenny asks conversationally, either unaware or uncaring of Eric’s suffering. 

“Because poison is a feminine art,” Chaos replies. 

Part of Eric realizes that he’s just borne witness to an actual civil conversation between Chaos and Mysterion. But most of him is triggered by what Chaos has said, about poison. That word carries a strong sense of déjà vu. But if he’s honest with himself, this whole afternoon has been colored with familiarity, almost like it’s happened before...

_That’s because it_ has _happened before. Valentine’s Day, junior year of high school. That little girl wasn’t a student council member—she didn’t even go to the same school. She was so short because she was a fucking 7th grader from North Park Middle School._ _But she wasn’t the one who sent the candy gram—she’d only been hired as a messenger. The chocolates had been poisoned. There were six of them because the sender wanted to make sure Eric fucking_ died _._

But Chaos hadn’t been there the first time. Why is he here now? Eric doesn’t want Chaos to be here, talking to Kenny and smiling Eric down at his most vulnerable moment.

Eric’s vision swims as the poison infiltrates his system. His limbs are growing heavier, but the pain is fading into a buzzing numbness. Soon, Kyle, Stan, and Kenny are naught but blurry, indecipherable blobs of color. But Chaos remains in sharp relief, blond and bright and disgustingly handsome. The villain turns so that he’s facing Eric fully. He crosses his legs primly like the little faggot he is.

“Does it hurt? Gettin’ poisoned?” Chaos asks conversationally. “I ain’t never been poisoned before. I mean, people’ve tried, but.”

As a matter of fact, it does hurt. But if Eric were able to speak at that moment, he wouldn’t be regaling Chaos on the various pains of getting poisoned. He’d be ripping the asshole a new one for making everything about himself when it’s ERIC who’s dying from poisoned chocolate! _Stop fucking talking and fucking help!_

“You never tried, though. That’s why instant noodles are my favorite food now.”

Bright colors are swirling around Chaos in a dizzying fashion, making Eric wonder if he’s not only poisoned but also high on shrooms or some shit. 

Then Chaos says, “I think you’re gonna die real soon, Eric.”

Well, Eric wishes he would die _quicker_ , so as to be spared the humiliation of having the process explained to him by Professor Chaos. 

“Maybe this will make it better,” Chaos says, and he leans in toward Eric.

But Eric doesn’t want Chaos to kiss him. Not like _this_. As dynamite as kisses from Chaos may be, Eric doesn’t want one out of pity. He also doesn’t want one when he’s not in control of his body and unable to fucking reciprocate. 

But of course, Chaos does kisses Eric anyway because Chaos is a fucking douchebag. 

Eric barely feels it; his lips may as well have been brushed by the wind. It takes a great deal of effort to move his eyes upwards to look at Chaos, and the villain looks soft and fuzzy around the edges, like he too is about to fade into nothingness. 

“I don’t think it worked,” Chaos says, sounding a million miles away. ‘Maybe that’s because I don’t love you.”

And then Cartman finally wakes up. 


	2. Chapter 2

He lies in bed for a long time after that. It takes him a long time to remember where—and  _ when _ —he is. For several minutes, he teeters on the precarious bridge between dreams and reality. He has to repeatedly talk himself down from getting up and getting ready for school. High school is over and it’d be too soon if he never went back to that shithole. 

Cartman stares up at his ceiling. It’s purple, and  _ solid _ . That’s a fucking comfort. It’s early February—for more than a month, Cartman has mourned the absence of a certain warm, blond body waking up in bed next to him. But not today. Cartman’s glad for his solitude today. After that dream, he wants to be as fucking alone as fucking possible. 

_ It didn’t mean anything _ , he tells himself. He shouldn’t need to convince himself. Cartman has never believed dreams to be anything more than the random firing of random synapses in his brain. Kenny is the one who believes in the mystical crap, about dreams being warnings or premonitions or other such bullshit. Kyle is a Freud-freak who thinks dreams are representations of someone’s subconscious desires. Cartman is particularly averse to this theory because he’s had way too many weird, faggy dreams in his life and there’s no fucking way that’s his subconscious trying to tell him something. Yeah, no. Fuck you, Kyle.

But  _ this _ dream had been so  _ real  _ that even now, it doesn’t feel like it was actually a dream. More like...temporarily going back in time. Cartman had nearly died back then. The doctors had been convinced that the poison had caused irreversible damage to his liver and he’d at the very least need a transplant. It’d only been the superhuman resilience that came with Cartman’s raccoon-like skillset that allowed his body to flush out the poison so effectively. Of course, since the doctors didn’t know about his powers, they’d declared his complete recovery a miracle, and Cartman hadn’t said anything to disavow the notion. Still, his brush with death had rattled him.  It wasn’t that death was a foreign concept to Cartman—how could it be, when he himself had brought about the demise of Scott Tenorman’s parents, or when one of his best friends died every other day? But Cartman had always imagined  _ himself _ dying only after a long life of success and indulgence, leaving behind thousands of adoring fans who would miss him dearly—kind of like Hitler. Cartman didn’t like how close he’d come to dying in his shitty school cafeteria because of some shitty chocolate from some shitty candy gram he’d received on the shittiest day in February. 

Almost dying from the shitty chocolate had been one of the events that inspired Cartman to become a vigilante, and subsequently found Coon & Friends. That way, if he ever ate poison-infused chocolate in a school cafeteria ever again, he’d at least die a literal hero.

Despite the significance the Valentine’s Day poisoning had had on Cartman’s life, however, he still finds it strange that he would dream about it now. Besides, his recollections usually cluster around the two weeks he’d spent in the hospital  _ after _ the fact: the stomach-pumping, the occasional vomits, Liane Cartman’s stifling fussiness, the righteous rage he’d felt at almost being assassinated, and even the tiny bit of pride that someone had found him important enough to even attempt to assassinate. He rarely thinks about the day he actually received the murderous candy gram itself. It’d seemed bland in comparison to the shitstorm that happened afterwards.

_ What was that dream trying to show me? _ he asks himself, before berating himself for believing in Kenny’s bullshit dream-interpretation mumbo jumbo. But he can’t help thinking about it. The dream had been an exact reenactment of the real event—or, at least, the beginning had been. In real life, after Stan had said “that’s so fucking gay” Cartman had replied, “No it’s not, because it’s probably from Kenny’s sister. Probably ‘cause she wants to ride my monster cock till the end of time.”  Kenny had been furious at the implication (Karen is the only person on Earth that Kenny cannot tolerate being spoken of in a sexual way) and had snatched the note out of Stan’s hand. Kenny had sagged with relief when he saw that  _ Till death do us part  _ wasn’t written in Karen’s handwriting. Then Cartman had looked at the message himself, and he hadn’t recognized the handwriting either. Then the bell had rung and he’d stuffed the message in his pocket and gone to class without another thought. He’d started feeling queasy during fifth period English, and had tried to settle his stomach by eating the last two chocolates. By sixth period algebra he was throwing up all over his textbook (rendering it completely unusable thereafter—at least  _ one _ thing had gone right!) and at some point passed out in his own sick.

When Cartman woke up in Hell’s Pass three days later, gossip about the attempted murder had already ravaged through South Park like a wildfire that had then turned around and burned the ashes twice more. It’d already become a generally accepted fact that the perpetrator could only be one Heidi Turner. Heidi hadn’t reacted well to the scrutiny: she gave confused, inconsistent accounts about what she’d been doing before and during Valentine’s Day. Sometimes she tearfully confessed to the crime, and then she’d turn around and deny it with the vehemence of an angry boar. In the end, no hard evidence was found against Heidi, but everyone  _ knew _ it was her because she was the only one with a motive to kill Cartman.  Well, not exactly true—Cartman pissed off plenty of people every day. Many times a day, even. But only Heidi had motive to kill Cartman specifically via Valentine, because he had very publicly and humiliatingly dumped her not even a month prior to the incident. 

In the end, only the little 7th grade girl who’d played messenger had been punished. Heidi and her family had moved away, and Cartman never saw her again.

Cartman had never doubted Heidi as the culprit—not until now. In retrospect, sending Cartman poisoned chocolates seems a little too calculative a move for Heidi, who’d been something of an airhead. Back then, Cartman had been angry, vengeful, and all too eager to pin the blame of his ordeal on a scapegoat. But now, being poisoned is far from the worst thing that has happened to him. As the Coon, he’s been bruised, bled, burned, cut, slashed, stabbed, and thrown off buildings. And he’s just recently gained fucking Clyde pussybaby Donovan as a stepbrother—how horrible! And these horrible things have given him perspective on the situation with Heidi.

(Still, when Cartman thinks of the worst thing that has ever happened to him as of now, all he is able to picture is the back of Chaos’s blond head disappearing into the crowd on New Year’s Day.)

Fucking Professor Chaos. How very unsurprising that the villain would manage to insert himself into a bad memory that he doesn’t belong to and make it even worse. In hindsight, though, Professor Chaos’s random appearance had actually been the least weird part of Cartman’s dream. The blond has been a repeat performer in Cartman’s dreams ever since their last parting. This is exactly why Kyle’s dream theories about subconscious desires are such bullshit! Cartman has no subconscious desires towards an insane supervillainous psychopath! Sure, Cartman had loved the guy for a little while, but it had only been a few seconds! And only because Chaos had a satanically handsome face. And a devilishly big dick. Shallow, superficial things! Just because someone is a good lay doesn’t mean they  _ mean _ anything to Cartman. Cartman’s had plenty of good lays before. Hell,  _ Kenny _ had been a good lay, but in real life he’s a douchebag asshole that Cartman hates. 

And also not as good a lay as Chaos. 

Gah! Cartman really needs to stop thinking about Chaos’s superior sex skills and the way Chaos’s heavy cock had felt inside his mouth. Fuuuuuck. All of this really is all Chaos’s fault! If Chaos hadn’t been a fucking moron and assumed that Cartman was trying to feed him poisoned instant noodles, then they never would have had that conversation about poison in the first place, and then Cartman would’ve never been reminded of the Valentine’s Day chocolate incident and dreamt about it and gotten all confused about it like he is now. 

Actually, what’s there to be confused about? Chaos ruins everything! And if everything is Chaos’s fault, then the poisoned chocolates were probably his fault too! 

It’s too bad Cartman doesn’t really believe this theory. He’s still convinced that the perpetrator was a girl. There’s one thing that dream-Chaos was right about, and it’s that poison is a pussy weapon used only by cowardly females...or so dream-Chaos had said in a much faggier fashion. And even though the real Chaos acts like a girl sometimes, he doesn’t actually have a vagina. Poison’s too anticlimactic a method for the drama-loving supervillain, anyway.

Not to mention the fact that Professor Chaos had been a very different kind of villain during those high school days. Back then, Professor Chaos had been a gay little kid who liked to play dress up and seemed to think that jaywalking was a nefarious crime worthy of a prison sentence.  _ Literally _ —the stupid dumbfuck had stridden into the Park County Police Station and  _ dared _ the officers to arrest him for his “terrible” crime. He’d left the police station, distinctly unarrested, as the laughingstock of the city. 

Chaos’s rise to true evil and violence began after Cartman’s graduation, and it had been so sudden that most people believe that the current Chaos had in fact murdered the original one and stolen his identity. Cartman doesn’t know if he believes this. It’s possible, he supposes. After all, Cartman’s Chaos claimed they first met while Chaos was under another alias, but the original Professor Chaos had already been active even before Cartman took on his Coon persona.

Regardless of whether or not there are two Chaoses, the fact remains that the Professor Chaos that existed during Cartman’s high school days would’ve most likely given  _ himself _ an aneurysm had he even  _ considered _ trying to murder someone.

So the Valentine sender wasn’t Chaos. And it might not even have been Heidi. Cartman bolts upright in his bed, suddenly seized with panic. Chaos is a dangerous enemy, but at least Cartman  _ knows _ him (a bit too well). But Cartman hasn’t the slightest inkling on the sender of the deadly Valentine. She could still be out there.  Who knows what she might try next? He looks around his bedroom furtively, half-expecting her to jump out of his closet and force cyanide down his throat. 

Rationally, Cartman knows that the mysterious Valentine is most likely no longer a threat to his person. It’s been  _ years _ , and in none of those years has Cartman received any other anonymous packages with suspicious memos. But Heidi’s culpability is something he’s taken for granted for so long that it’s unnerving to consider he may have been mistaken for all this time.

Cartman quickly pulls on a pair of pants and heads for his garage. In the far back corner of it are a couple of unopened boxes containing items from his childhood. He’d wanted to throw all that junk away, but Liane had packed it up for him “just in case my poopsikins gets sentimental someday”.

Well,  _ this _ has nothing to do with sentimentality.

He opens the box labeled “Eric’s High School Years” in his mother’s neat hand. He finds the old Valentine gram taped inside his sophomore yearbook, next to Heidi’s yearbook photo. Over it, Cartman had written the words, “This bitch tried to poison me. Plot demise at earliest convenience.” Cartman remembers turning dozens of ideas over in his head: killing Heidi outright would be too obvious, and killing her parents instead seemed too merciful. In the end, his ideas had gotten more and more outrageous and implausible, while life continued to go on, and the matter of revenge eventually just slipped from his mind entirely. 

Maybe it’s time to rekindle his revenge efforts. But first, Cartman needs to ascertain whether Heidi really  _ is _ the bitch who deserves his punishment. He runs his fingers over the pink paper. The words  _ Till death do us part _ stare up at Cartman accusingly. 

Cartman remembers that Heidi rarely wrote with a normal pencil or pen—she’d frequently get in trouble with teachers for turning in assignments notated in colorful, sparkly inks. But  _ Till death do us part  _ is written in heavy black Sharpie. Still, just because it’s written in the wrong color and pen type doesn’t eliminate Heidi as a suspect. What Cartman needs is a sample of Heidi’s handwriting to compare. 

So Cartman flips to the back of his yearbook, where the autograph pages are supposed to be. But there’s an entire page that’s torn out. The only remaining signatures are from his guy friends. Kenny’s signature is surrounded by drawings of dicks. 

_ I must have torn out Heidi’s entry out of spite.  _ Cartman rifles through the remainder of his boxful of high school mementos, but finds that he’d been thorough about discarding anything Heidi had given or written to him. He curses his impulsive younger self. 

Still, not all hope is lost. Cartman goes back inside and starts a new text conversation with the person most likely to have the signatures of every student at South Park High School in her yearbook, and then some.

  
  


**Eric Cartman** 10:02am

Yo bebe

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:06am

What the hell do you want cartman

**Eric Cartman** 10:06am

What makes you think I want something huh bitch

Maybe i just wanted to wish my most favorite n beautiful sister in law a good fucking morning

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:07am

You are sooooooo full of shit fat boy

**Eric Cartman** 10:07am

Am not fuking fat

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:07am

You have never NOT had selfish ulterior motives and clyde told me you don’t care about family anyway so why should our VERY DISTANT relation matter to you?

**Eric Cartman** 10:07am

Well Clyde obviously told u that cuz he’s jealous of our perfect in law relationship nd trying to ruin it

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:08am

That would imply there’s a relationship TO ruin

Fyi i’m only even humoring you for clyde’s sake in the first place

Wtv the hell you want just spit it out cartman

**Eric Cartman** 10:08am

Okok perfectly honest i wanna ruin clyde’s life cuz he’s the worst brother evahhhhh

N the best way to do that is by having a hot n steamy affair with my mostbeautiful and perfect sis in law

What do u say sis wanna ride my 10-in monster cock? 

Cmon u know u want to, anyone’s better than clyde the limpdick pussyboy

  
  


Cartman chortles to himself after he hits the send button. He knows he should be focusing on the Valentine mystery, but Bebe was just  _ asking _ to be fucked with and Cartman couldn’t help himself.  His desolate life has been in desperate need of entertainment since Chaos left. Unfortunately, many minutes go by in which Bebe does not reply. It becomes apparent that she’s purposely ignoring him. 

  
  


**Eric Cartman** 10:20am

Goddamit calm ur fake silicon tits u humorless bitch i was just fucking joking

I wouldn’t want to share your hairy vagina with stupid clyde’s tiny little penis anyway

U were rite ok i do want something but it’s actually so seriously like Seriously

  
  


When she continues to ignore him, Cartman writes:

  
  


**Eric Cartman** 10:29am

Ffffffffffffff u stupid dumb blonde bitch i’m actually seriously here!!!!!!

Iwanna ask u about the book club

  
  


The “book club” is a code name for Coon & Friends. Bebe wants to be a member, and her powers would indeed be very useful for the group, but to become a Coon & Friends hero (or heroine) requires the approval of every single other existing member. Clyde as Mosquito refuses to give Bebe his blessing, claiming that it’s too dangerous for her. It’s one of the primary wedges between Clyde and Bebe’s relationship, and Cartman is honestly amazed they’re still together. And that’s not even taking into account both Clyde and Bebe’s frequent affairs with other people. 

Sure enough, Bebe falls for it and immediately texts Cartman back.

  
  


**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:30am

Will you let me in the club?

**Eric Cartman** 10:30am

No u dumb bitch u know the fucking rules’

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:30am

Well if you’re really so eager to piss off clyde that would be the best way to do it, by letting me in

I’m willing to take on any mission you have

**Eric Cartman** 10:31am

Watch ur mouth sis

If this is how u blab about the BOOK CLUB then clyde’s got the right idea keeping u out

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:31am

Oh okok fine sorry ill be more careful

**Eric Cartman** 10:31am

You bet ur skjinny white ass u will

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:32am

Ok so if this about the book club that btw i’m NOT ALLOWED TO JOIN then whyre you asking me

**Eric Cartman** 10:32am

Im trying to collect evidence about a suspect and i need handwriting samples

U were the most popular studen in HS so

Send me pics of all the signatures in ur HS yearbooks

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:32am

Those are from so long ago??

Are you sure

**Eric Cartman** 10:32am

Have u met me 

When i have not been sure about anything i do

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:32am

Idk I’m not you

What I do know is that you’re a pathological liar

For all i know you just want to blackmail me or something

**Eric Cartman** 10:32am

How could I possibly blackmail u w/your yearbook

It’s probably just signatures from the 582049385748329 exboyfiends who shoved their dicks up your sandy vagina, and everyone knows you’re a whore already

I just need the fucking handwriting comparisons!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

it’s an old fucking case bebe u think our club only reads current shit????

We read fucking classics too u dumb uncultured shit

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:32am

It was just a question must you turn everything into a fucking insult

**Eric Cartman** 10:33am

Hey don’t make it out to be my fault that ur so fucking dumb 

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:33am

If you’re done wasting my time I’ve got things to do

**Eric Cartman** 10:33am

Whoaaa hold on aren’t u gonna help me u said u’d do any mission and i fucking gave u one so fucking do it bitch

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:33am

I will if you ask politely

**Eric Cartman** 10:34am

What the fuck u r in no position to mak demands!!!!

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:34am

Omfg and you wonder why no one respects you

**Eric Cartman** 10:34am

Wht

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:34am

What do you fucking expect when you treat everyone like shit

**Eric Cartman** 10:34am

It’s my fucking right to be treated with respect u fucking hoe, because I’m the fucking LEADER

of the book club

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:34am

“If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.

**Eric Cartman** 10:35am

HAAAA so you admit they’re my inferiors

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:35am

Well no but I also know that nothing i say is gonna change the fact that that’s how you see everybody anyway

**Eric Cartman** 10:35am

Also did you just quote sirius fucking black at me

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:35am

You recognized haha?

So you did read HP after all

That’s gay you know

**Eric Cartman** 10:36am

Don’t call me gay u fuckin faggot

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:36am

First of all don’t use the word faggot second of all how could i be a faggot I’m a girl dumbass

**Eric Cartman** 10:36am

Fuck u bebe

U know what i bet chaos doesn’t get this kind of fucking insolence from his minions

  
  


Cartman regrets what he typed as soon as he sends it. First of all, he shouldn’t have used Chaos’s real name, because this is his personal-use phone and not his Coon & Friends device. Neither does he want Bebe—or anyone, for that matter—to know how embarrassingly often his thoughts revolve around Professor Chaos these days. But it’s too late to rescind the text now. And he guesses it’s not that weird for the Coon to be thinking about his villainous nemesis—Mysterion is downright obsessive about Chaos, after all. Just as long as Bebe doesn’t figure out the context of Cartman’s Chaos-centric thoughts, he’ll be fine. Besides, bringing up Chaos admittedly distracted Bebe from her accusations of Cartman’s Harry Potter-related gayness.

  
  


**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:38am

Wait are you talking about Mr. Hyde

**Eric Cartman** 10:39am

Yes

  
“Mr. Hyde” is code word for Professor Chaos. Cartman is starting to realize that all of the Coon & Friends passcodes and code phrases are fucking stupid. Well, it’s the price they all have to pay for letting Call Girl choose them.

  
  


**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:39am

Wait so does the case you’re investigating have to do with him?

Omfg Is he the suspect?????

  
  


Her excitement is palpable even over text, and Cartman decides not to disavow her assumption outright.

  
  


**Eric Cartman** 10:41am

Maybe

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 10:41am

Wait does that mean you know his identity????!!! Holy shit did he go to high school with us??????

**Eric Cartman** 10:41am

I’m working on it bebe don’t ask too many fucking questions.

  
  


“Ha, that gullible hoe,” Cartman mutters under his breath. Now he’s just plain lying to Bebe; it’s easier to allow her to believe that this is actually about Chaos. The only thing that bothers Cartman is that this proves Bebe right about his being a pathological liar, and he hates when bitches are right. Cartman prefers the title “selective truth-teller”.

And it’s not like Cartman hasn’t been trying to hell and back to figure out Chaos’s identity this whole time. Chaos had referred to himself as  _ Butters _ , and ever since the New Year, Cartman’s spent a little bit of every day doing a bit of personal investigation. He’d even broken into the Park County Police Department several late nights in January and combed through their files, but there’d been no record of any citizen named Butters. The closest thing Cartmanfound, via Google, was someone in New Jersey who had a pet cat named Butters. And since Cartman is as certain as he can be that Professor Chaos isn’t a Jersey kitty in disguise, that means that the name Butters must either be a nickname, or it’s complete bullshit that Chaos made up on the spot to fuck with Cartman’s brain. 

In other words, a dead end.

When “Butters” failed to produce any leads, Cartman had tried looking for someone named Charlotte—a mystery girl Chaos claimed “did all those things” with him. But there are too many Charlottes living in South Park to make that information any kind of useful.

Ten minutes later, Bebe sends over scans of her yearbook autographs.The first thing Cartman sees is, once again, Kenny’s signature. _Thanks for the ride, beautiful!_ Kenny had written, and this time his signature is surrounded with drawings of boobs. 

_ Ever the artist, Kenneth.  _

Bebe had been immensely popular in high school, so it takes a while for Cartman to find what he’s looking for. There’s so many signatures and messages and well-wishes for Bebe that there’s barely any white space left. Cartman even finds his own handwriting on the top corner of one of the pages with the words _ SUCK MY BALLS _ . Oh god, he’d been hilarious. 

His amusement dies, however, when he finds Heidi’s handwriting right below his. This is Bebe’s sophomore yearbook, so Cartman and Heidi had still been dating then and they must have signed Bebe’s yearbook back to back. Heidi had written some girly, long-winded memo about how much she  _ loved _ Bebe and how they’d be best friends forever. Sure enough, it’s written in four different-colored sparkly pens. Heidi’s letters are fat and bubbly, and the i’s are dotted with hearts. 

The person who’d sent the Valentine gram had written all-caps with an extremely forward-slanting hand. The letters are tall lengthwise, but cramped horizontally, erratic and angular, and even though it’s not cursive the letters are still connected, as though the writer couldn’t be bothered to lift her Sharpie from the page. Her s’s are particularly distinctive.

Her handwriting couldn’t be more different from Heidi’s. 

_ This doesn’t mean anything. Maybe Heidi wrote differently on purpose to throw us off her trail.  _ _ Or maybe she had someone else write the note for her _ . 

But as Cartman’s eyes skim down the rest of the picture, they settle upon a small signature at the bottom corner of the very same yearbook page containing his own and Heidi’s autographs.

_ Don’t forget me. >:)  _

_ M.A.S. _

It’s written in a neater hand than  _ Till death do us part _ , but the forward slant and the s’s are unmistakable. It’s even written in black Sharpie. 

M.A.S. is Cartman’s Valentine.

“Fuck! What the fuck is M.A.S.? Why couldn’t the stupid hoe sign her whole fucking name?” he screams.

He screenshots M.A.S.’s memo and quickly sends it back to Bebe. 

  
  


**Eric Cartman** 11:13am

Who dis hoe

Yo bebe yo 

Check ur goddamn phone goddammit bebe

ASDFKRJDNDMSJRBFBFNFMSM

SNFBRBDNSKSBDBFVFNFJDMABDBFNFNDNDNDN

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 11:34am

Omg shut up 

I saw your fucking text i’m just trying to remember

  
  


Cartman’s heart sinks in disappointment.

  
  


**Eric Cartman** 11:35am

are u telling me u fucking forget

bITch you had ONE job 

I’m srsly they literally said DONT FORGET ME

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 11:35am

Give me a fucking break do you even realize how many people I knew back then

And everyone says “dont forget me and shit like that in high school, we were all melodramatic teenagers who thought everything would last forever

Ughhhhhh if they wanted me to remember them so badly why did they only sign their freaking initials

**Eric Cartman** 11:36am

Dont ask me I’m not the fucking murderer

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 11:36am

Oh my god, it’s a murderer?

it really is Mr. Hyde isn’t it 

Oh my god

I feel like I should remember this

Asdfghjkl why am I such an idiot

**Eric Cartman** 11:36am

Don’t ask me cuz I’m not the one whos the fucking idiot here

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 11:37am

You’re not helping

**Eric Cartman** 11:37am

Your idiocy isn’t helping me either bitch

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 11:37am

Ugh just shut up about that for a minute 

**Eric Cartman** 11:38am

Ok it’s been a minute idiot

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 11:40am

Give me more time

I must’ve been friends with this MAS for them to write something like that

Maybe Wendy will remember she had loads of connections thru the student council

**Eric Cartman** 11:40am

No u fucking dumbass bitch don’t tell wendy

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 11:40am

She’s in the book club too so why not

**Eric Cartman** 11:40am

Yes of course ik she’s in the fucking club I’M the one who has to suffer dat dirty hoe’s presence all the fucking time

This is my fucking assignment n I don’t want anyone else snooping around sensitive evidence

I’m already taking a big fucking risk letting u in on it bebe this is against club rules don’t make me fucking regret it

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 11:41am

Okok I get it I get it I won’t tell anyone

I kept loads of my high school shit and I’m sure there’s something in there that’ll jog my memory 

I promise I’ll figure it out for you Cartman

The only thing you’ll regret is not letting me into your stupid club

**Eric Cartman** 11:41am

It seems to have slipped ur idiotic mind that even as much as I hate u I have nothing against ur admission, the whole club’s already full of morons and pussies anyway what’s 1 more

it’s really ur boyfriend u should be bitching at, not me ur ultra awesome brother in law

So far im already having regrets and thats Xposing myself to ur unbelievable stupidity but I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything less from clye’s dumb blond chick

**Clyde’s dominatrix** 11:42am

Fuck you cartman

**Eric Cartman** 11:42am

No, my monster cock doesn’t want near ur bitch ass anyway

Now less talk more work faggot

  
  


Cartman’s words seem to have their intended effect, because Bebe doesn’t reply to Cartman after that. Cartman grumbles under his breath and tosses his phone to the side. 

That felt distinctly anticlimactic! He’d been so sure that Bebe would be able to give him some answers, but after all his trouble the Valentine mystery is still no closer to being solved.

_ Don’t forget me. >:)  _

_ M.A.S. _

Well, okay, maybe a  _ little _ bit closer. But now there are more questions than there are answers. Was Heidi in cahoots with M.A.S.? Did Heidi have anything to do with the poisoned sweets at all? 

And who the fuck is M.A.S.?


End file.
